Blood Insurance
by Eucleia
Summary: "She will be used against you. In more ways than one. And you cannot undo what has already been done. What a pity it is to turn family against each other. But I'm sure you know all about that." Ada Wong narrowed her eyes in a feeble attempt to mask her crumbling facade. It was failing quickly. "Now choose. Your daughter. Or her father." [Multiple Pairings. Suspense/Romance/Horror]


**Author's Note: I've recently been sucked into the Resident Evil fandom, and I decided I absolutely _must_ write something for it, especially since I've invested so much time into the games. **

**This (mostly) takes place several months after RE6 and will include multiple pairings (sometimes teased). **

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><p><strong>Disclaimer: <strong>**I do not own any of the published stories or characters I write about in my own work, nor do I make any profit from my writing.**

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><p><em>November 21, 2008<br>0524 Hours_

She clenched her teeth, gripping the metal bars next to her in sweaty hands, yet still refused to cry out in pain. Her usually steady heartbeat was pounding in her head, her chest ached with a soreness she should have never known, and her midsection…well, she would be grateful if most of it was still intact by the time this was over.

For all she had been through, this really should not have been the most agonizing ordeal she had encountered—or rather, been _forced_ to encounter in this case, if she was being truly honest with herself—and for a brief moment, dirty images of previous tortures streaked across her blurred mind. She bit down on a red lip at the unpleasant memories—_jobs, _she had to remind herself quickly, _they were jobs that were completed effectively_—and almost forgot to breathe.

A man in a stark white coat—save for a few small splashes of red on the hem—bent over her and prompted sharply, "Exhale. Now."

She did as she was told, and immediately sucked in another labored breath, her lungs burning with every rise and fall. How had the other women done it?

Her head lolled to the side, her forehead slick with sweat and her once-pristine black hair plastered to her cheeks, and glared as savagely as she could at one of the large mirrored windows in the small room. It was all she could do in her present situation. _He_ was probably there, waiting, staring, _judging_ her during what should have been one of the most triumphant occasions in her life; now it was reduced to this prison of a bed while he gloated from behind that bulletproof glass as she was laid low.

"Breathe." The whitecoat ordered again—but this time, it was followed by an abrupt needle-stick to the back and she let out a hiss. "You are not making this easy."

Words caught in her throat amidst the initial shock of pain and something that sounded vaguely like "_Go to hell,_" sputtered from her mouth.

"It is your fault for getting caught in this condition." His soft French accent dripped honeyed poison. "You have gotten careless, _mon cher._"

Another jab in the back from the needle. She jerked her arm, causing the single manacle around her wrist to screech against the bar it was attached to, but she didn't notice or care.

A voice, _his_ voice, suddenly echoed close to her ear—courtesy of the devilish audio contraption wired to the head of the bed she was lying in—and she bit her lip again at its unexpected arrival. _"Consider this as your debt repaid. I am a forgiving employer."_

Forgiving, her ass. If this—and what she knew would inevitably follow—was how he collected, it was nothing short of barbaric. She spat out a few curses in response.

_"You will thank me yet."_

Behind the one-way window, not one, but two men quietly observed the woman on the bed in the small room, neither showing a glimmer of concern. One of them sighed in dissatisfaction and blinked, bored.

"Something the matter, brother?"

The other waved him off, shaking his head. "Just thinking. Perhaps we are making a mistake with her. The Family…"

"Will fully support your decision, Ian. You are the Head." The younger of the two raised an eyebrow at his sibling's sudden doubt.

Ian sighed again and continued to examine through the window. The woman had quieted down somewhat and she was now breathing normally, her eyes squeezed tight in what he could only guess as searing pain. She was doing remarkably well.

"Once the operation is…concluded, what will you do with her?" The younger brother asked slowly. He didn't take his eyes off of Ian, unsure of what kind of answer he was going to receive. All their lives, Ian had been unreadable, and this crucial moment wasn't any different. A lot was at stake here, considering the enormity of this new project, and trust still didn't come easily, even between family members.

Ian cocked his head to one side, a glint reflecting off his glasses. "I love her." He said simply. "I am not going to _do_ anything with her."

The woman suddenly bolted straight up, her back bending in a perfect arc, and her eyes were wide. The blue paper gown she was wearing split at the side, revealing the smooth ivory skin of her waist, but it appeared she was too far gone to be interested in preserving her modesty.

"Observe, Derek. The moment _Ada Wong_ is at her most vulnerable." The corners of Ian's mouth lifted slightly. "Isn't she exquisite?"

The whitecoat in the room hurried to the foot of the bed as two others entered from unseen doors on either side; the woman had seemingly given up on her pride and a scream now burst from between her teeth.

"I can only imagine what kind of misery she must be going through." Ian remarked rather dolefully, though Derek knew his brother wasn't capable of even that much.

He only nodded, drawn to the bloody scene unfolding before them. The whitecoats were rushing back and forth, cloths in their hands pressing gently on the woman, unaffected as she was by their presence; until suddenly, in a torrent of blood and howls of pain, another shriek joined the strange cacophony—a high-pitched wail.

"Success, Ian." Without hesitation, Derek placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. "You were so certain she wouldn't make it."

"I have my reasons." Ian reluctantly allowed himself a thin smile. "See to it that she is comfortable." He ordered his second-in-command, and ran a hand through his gray-streaked hair. "_Both_ of them."

_**Report #AW-21112008-0647**  
>1<em>_st__ Subject: Ada Wong (Alias; Documented Name: Unknown)  
>Location: Athena's Highway (Laboratory #AW-1); France<br>Condition: In custody_

_2__nd__ Subject: As yet unnamed  
>Location: Athena's Highway (Laboratory #AW-1); France<br>Condition: In custody_

_[Relationship between 1__st__/2__nd__ Subjects: Mother/Daughter]_

_Received permission to commence First Stage of Program AW * (Name to be changed) from: Ian Simmons, Head of The Family_

_* First Stage:  
>Preserve and Detain 1<em>_st__ Subject; Preserve, Train, Note 2__nd__ Subject; 1__st__ and 2__nd__ Subjects to be relocated every month (next immediate location is TBA)  
>-Estimated Time of Completion: Five years [2013] <em>

_Regarding the heritage of the 2__nd__ Subject: To Whom This May Concern (The Family)  
>(To be reviewed and edited every month as needed until the year 2013)—Proceed with caution and care when handling 2<em>_nd__ Subject. The female's mother is the infamous Ada Wong; the child will surely develop some of the mother's mannerisms and sly character over the course of the First Stage. Every meeting between mother and child is to be chaperoned. _

_More details to follow._

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><p><strong>Author's Note: If you have any questions, comments, concerns, please feel free to review! I'm always open to commentary :)<strong>

**WARNING: This story will include heavy 'M' rated material further in the plot. **


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